


Heat

by Bungalow_Stories



Category: Jurassic World - Fandom
Genre: F/M, moo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 02:20:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5399246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bungalow_Stories/pseuds/Bungalow_Stories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire and Owen don't have sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heat

Owen wasn't the type of man who felt conflicted about things, but after a rather large incident that followed the disaster at Jurassic World, he was starting to have trouble sorting out the details of his life. Somehow, in a turn of events that he could hardly explain, he was now married to Claire, who was a hybrid dinosaur. This was (in part) why his life was so much more complicated than it needed to be.  
Of course, every relationship has its issues. Owen once knew a man whose wife got hit by a car and became paralyzed from the waist down. The couple still loved each other, but the accident put an inordinate amount of stress on their marriage. To some degree, Owen's situation could be compared to that, only he had married Claire _after_ she changed, so he knew what he was getting into . . . sort of. While there were probably several books on how to deal with marital issues, Owen was pretty sure that he wouldn't see titles such as "So Your Wife Is A Stegoceratops" in the self help section. His problem was unique (to say the least), and sometimes he felt like there was no one in the world who could help him.  
It wasn't all bad, of course. While Owen sometimes found himself missing Claire's human body, he had gotten used to her new shape. In fact, he had actually become desensitized to the point of not being able to remember whether he had ever _not_ been attracted to her as a dinosaur. So that was another funny thing: Owen wasn't sure whether he should be feeling this way about his wife. On one hand, she was Claire, and she would always be Claire, but on the other hand, she happened to be dinosaur-Claire. From an outside perspective, it might seem like Owen was married to a dinosaur. Well, _technically_ he was, but there was more to it than that. Claire wasn't some mute, unintelligent animal like the dinosaurs at Jurassic World: she was a human being in a dinosaur body, and that's why Owen hadn't left her once the change became permanent. He'd have stuck with Claire no matter what, and as far as he was concerned, there was nothing wrong with that. Then again, he hadn't made long-lasting emotional bonds with many humans, which made him wonder . . .  
Owen wasn't sure what to think anymore. He knew that there were rumors circulating about him, but since most of the people who knew about his relationship lived far, far away from his isolated cabin in Tennessee, he didn't have to put up with too much criticism. Most of his uncertainties stemmed from the fact that he _assumed_ people would be weirded out by the details of his marriage if they knew about them. Even then, it wasn't so much about their opinions (Owen wasn't really concerned with what other people thought of him, after all), but rather, the fact that there might be something wrong with him. His relationship with Claire was intimate, and there was no reason it shouldn't be, because they loved each other, but sometimes the ethics of what they were doing concerned Owen. For instance, a few nights ago, he had been rubbing her front horn sensually. At first, he didn't feel too worried about it, but as time went on, he realized just how much he enjoyed the smoothness of the bone. In essence, he was getting aroused by touching a body part that hadn't been there when she was human . . . but it was a part of her now, so did that make it okay? It wasn't like he was attracted to normal dinosaurs, after all. He had worked at Jurassic World for years, and never once did he think of the livestock in a sensual context. He was almost certain that he was attracted to Claire because she was Claire, and not because she was a dinosaur, but since her dinosaur-ness was a part of her, he was attracted to that as well.  
Or maybe he was just messed up. It was hard to tell.  
In any case, he never considered leaving her, because if he did, she'd have no one to turn to. Well, maybe she'd find someone, but it would be hard, since not everyone was as tolerant of her species as he was. The biggest reason Owen didn't want to leave her, however, was because he loved her. He had loved her for a very, _very_ long time. Back at Jurassic World, he had spent months trying to convince her that she should give their relationship another shot, and that they were destined to be together. Admittedly, he had come on too strong, but that didn't matter now. Long ago, it seemed unlikely that he could ever marry someone as out-of-his-league as Claire, but maybe the fact that he stayed with her when she was a dinosaur was helping their relationship along.  
And there was another troublesome question: was she staying with him because she had been forced to lower her standards? No, that wasn't true. Every time Owen looked into her eyes, he could feel her affection being channeled to him. Their feelings were real, and that was something to be happy about, because he finally knew what it was like to be in love. Unfortunately, that didn't erase the fact that they had to deal with a lot of issues.  
Sometimes, Owen was genuinely concerned for Claire. As much as he felt conflicted about his emotions, his wife was going through the same thing times a million. Claire _hated_ herself, and Owen wasn't really sure why. Every time he'd catch her staring at her face in the mirror or poking at her dinosaur belly, he wanted to cry. It wasn't _her_ fault that she was a stegoceratops, and there wasn't even anything particularly wrong with the way she was. Of course, she'd argue this point by saying that she was fat and green and ugly, to which Owen might reply that while she would be heavy for a human, being two-ish tons was healthy for a dinosaur, and she was more beautiful than any animal he had ever seen, _and what did it matter, anyway, because she was the most amazing person on Earth!_ But she'd never believe him. He'd tried and tried and tried to get her to like herself, but nothing seemed to be working. His only option was to treat her like he would treat a human being and hope that she would forget about the implications of her new form . . . but that was a hard thing to do. As much as he wanted to view their relationship as normal, there were certain limitations to it, specifically regarding their intercourse. Oh, they were fine as far as anatomy was concerned, but Claire tended to be sensitive about very specific quirks. The phrase "sexy beast" had been banned from the bedroom, for instance, as had "you're an animal" or even "ride me". When these expressions had first slipped out, Owen hadn't meant anything by them; he simply got wrapped up in the moment and forgot that there might be some unfortunate implications to his words. It really shouldn't have been that way, but Claire was becoming more and more sensitive. Going back to the paralysis comparison, Claire was the kind of person who would refuse to acknowledge the fact that she was in a wheelchair. Or maybe not _refuse_ to acknowledge it, but pretend like it was something to be ashamed of, and take every opportunity to hide it. She was definitely in denial, and she was keen to drag her husband into her circle of ignorance.  
Owen wasn't the smartest man alive, but that didn't mean he was a complete moron. Every time Claire would lie to him, he had to wonder if she thought he was absolutely dense. Once, he nearly tripped over a pile of gizzard stones that she had regurgitated, and she claimed that a squirrel had stacked them in the middle of the field. Another time, he caught her chewing cud, and she tried to blow a bubble to prove that it was gum. Most troubling of all, she journeyed to a distant canyon almost every day to lay waste, claiming that she was into recreational birdwatching. It was true that she couldn't exactly use a toilet, but she didn't have to _lie_ about it. Owen kept very few secrets from her, after all, and he wished that she would trust him, too. It wasn't like he didn't know that she had to adjust to a different kind of biology. Even if she was worried about being too animalistic, it didn't really matter in the long run, because she _had_ to graze and she _had_ to sharpen her horns and she _had_ to sleep for longer than usual. It was unavoidable, and Owen feared that she wouldn't be healthy if she tried to live life like a human.  
Fortunately, Claire sometimes accepted her animal tendencies. Or maybe she was forced into them, like the time she first went into heat.  
 _SCREEEEEEEEECH!_  
Owen flinched as a white bird squawked outside of his window. He had been so deep in his reverie that the noise made him jump about six feet. At least he was still awake. That was something.  
He had been sitting on his bed as he thought about all of this, waiting for Claire to get out of the shower. Once or twice, he considered joining her, but he knew that she'd be too embarrassed to accept his offer. She was in one of her self-loathing moods right now, and it was unwise to provoke her if it could be avoided. The most difficult part of their marriage was the emergence of her sudden shame-spirals. But that was not going to be a problem tonight, because it was around the time of month that she went into heat. Being a not-quite-dinosaur, she displayed biology that couldn't be traced to one particular animal. Sometimes, she didn't act like a human _or_ a dinosaur. Owen had a theory that traces of DNA from random animals were scattered through her genetic code, which was perhaps supported by her monthly hormonal fluctuation. Oh, he much preferred this to the alternative, as he had always been antsy about lady-problems, but it was a weird quirk, nonetheless.  
Whenever she went into heat, Claire became about as sharp as a sock full of soup. The very first time it happened, this was a good thing. At the time, she had been going through a phase where she refused to have sex at all. They had been going at it pretty steadily until then, but all of a sudden, she wanted to abstain from any intimacy whatsoever. Owen was baffled by her behavior. He was sure that he'd done something wrong, but it wasn't so. Claire had simply reached her threshold of weirdness. This was bad news, of course. It wasn't so much the fact that he might never have sex again that scared Owen (though it _was_ a major concern): what worried him was that Claire had begun to hate herself more than usual, and that was enough to put him on edge. Luckily, she had gone into heat during this brief spell, and once she was reminded of the reasons she enjoyed Owen's company, things went smoothly. He could only hope that the same thing would happen again tonight.  
The shower stopped running. Owen perked up, waiting for Claire to return. Perhaps she was in heat already. It might be wise to open the door in case she tried to push it too forcefully. Or maybe he should wait. Yes, that was a good idea.  
Claire did emerge from the bathroom eventually, her scales glistening where she couldn't quite reach with her towel. She strutted up to the bed pleasantly, smiling at Owen as she did. That was a good sign. What she said next, however, made Owen's heart drop.  
"Hey. I was wondering if we could have a little talk."  
Shit. Something was wrong. Owen felt like an idiot for believing that her smile was genuine.  
"What do you want to talk about?" he asked robotically.  
Claire took a deep breath and exhaled.  
"According to the calendar, I'm going to go into heat tonight . . ."  
Oh, good. She was just offering to have sex. That was one problem solved.  
". . . and I need you to stop me from sleeping with you."  
SHIT. _SHIT!_  
"Um . . . why?" Owen squeaked.  
"Because I need to know that I can control myself. It's a test of willpower. I know I can get a little funny when I'm hormonal, but if you help me out, I can prove to myself that I'm strong enough to resist my urges."  
Owen blinked.  
"But . . . _why_?"  
Claire looked at him with an expression that definitely wasn't happy.  
"I . . . I just _need_ this, okay? When I start to feel it coming, I'm going to want to have sex with you, and I need you to help me avoid that. That means you'll have to stop yourself from giving in too, no matter what I say. Can you do that?"  
Owen gulped. He didn't like where this was going, but he couldn't say no to her.  
"Alright. I'll do it. Or _not_ do it, in this case," he said awkwardly.  
Claire smiled.  
"Good. Thank you for understanding."  
Owen gave her an uncertain smile, then found he had nothing to do. He leaned back against her shoulder as she opened a book, hoping to fall asleep. He did doze off eventually, but was pulled out of his slumber by a peculiar sensation. When he opened his eyes, he saw Claire nuzzling his crotch, rubbing her face against it like a cat marking its territory. She made low chuffing sounds as she moved, then tried to grab his fly with her beak.  
"Claire?"  
She jumped in surprise.  
"Owen! You're awake!"  
He scooted away from her.  
"What's going on?"  
Claire rumbled guiltily.  
"Nothing. I just . . . I just forgot."  
She turned away from him and tried to focus on her book. Owen noticed that she hadn't made significant progress since he dozed off. As she tried to concentrate on the pages, her eyes kept darting over to Owen. He could tell what she was thinking about, and covered his lower body with a pillow to stop her from getting too imaginative. As time went on, however, she scooted closer and closer to him until she was near enough to reach the concealed area. She tugged on the pillow with her beak, and Owen pushed her away.  
"Claire, stop it."  
"I changed my mind."  
"Nope. You can't do that."  
"I can. I revoke my previous comment."  
Owen hummed.  
"Nice try. I won't let you go through with this. You made me promise that I wouldn't have sex with you, and I intend to remain true to my word."  
Claire tried to move the pillow away with her front foot.  
"I was being illogical. I'm better now. Let me touch-"  
Owen pushed her away.  
"Claire. No."  
She mooed unhappily and sat back on her haunches. After shifting around for a bit, she leaned over and started kissing his neck. He shuffled backwards nervously.  
"Claire . . ."  
"It's not sex."  
"But it's going to turn into that if you don't restrain yourself."  
Claire sputtered.  
"I can- Why do you always- Look, I'm not doing anything _wrong_. Just let me touch-"  
"Claire, I'm not going to ask you again."  
She frowned.  
"You're being unreasonable. And technically, I said you weren't allowed to have sex with _me_ , so anything I do to _you_ is fair game."  
Owen thought about it. He immediately wished he hadn't, because he was starting to get excited. Morally, he knew that engaging in sexual activity of any kind would count as breaking his promise, so he wasn't willing to go there. It was probably best to pretend-  
Owen gasped as Claire yanked the pillow away and tossed it across the room. He tried to cover his crotch, but she pinned his arm down with her front foot.  
"There, you see? You're turned on. Just let me have a little fun."  
"I can't. I promised."  
"You don't have to keep your promise . . ."  
"You'll be mad at me when you come to your senses."  
"I won't. Please, just let me-"  
Owen pointed over her shoulder.  
"Oh my god! A bird just hit the window!"  
As Claire turned to look, Owen rolled over and made a dash for the bathroom. He slammed the door before Claire could catch up. He could hear her marching across the room impatiently. She jiggled the handle (probably with her mouth), then slammed her horn against the wood in frustration.  
"Damn it."  
Owen laughed.  
"I'm too clever for you."  
Claire growled furiously.  
"Get out here, Owen, or I'm divorcing you."  
"That's a little rash, don't you think? . . . Wait, are you serious?"  
She snorted.  
"Come on, Owen. I know you want this. You won't feel better until we've had sex."  
Owen sat down and leaned against the door.  
"I'm not moving."  
Claire stomped her foot in agitation.  
"Well . . . Well, how are you supposed to get rid of that erection if we don't work together?"  
Owen shrugged.  
"I guess I'll just have to masturbate or something."  
There was a pause.  
". . . Can I watch?"  
Owen rolled his eyes.  
"Claire, this isn't _you_. I don't know what it is about your hormones that makes you act this way when you're in heat, but I wish you'd just calm down."  
Claire rumbled guiltily.  
"I can't _help_ it, Owen. I just need you _so much_. Please, come out. I need to feel better."  
"Are you sick?"  
"Yes."  
Owen blinked.  
"How sick?"  
She gulped.  
"I guess I'm just sick in the head, because I'm a big, dumb animal, and I can't stop myself from having sex with you."  
Owen closed his eyes.  
"God, Claire, don't say that. You're not an animal, and we can get through this. We just need to remain calm."  
She sighed.  
"Okay . . ."  
They waited in silence for a minute or two. It felt like an eternity. Owen withheld from touching himself, because he had a sneaking suspicion that Claire could smell his excitement, and the last thing he needed was her breathing down his neck while he went at it solo. He thought about very unattractive things, and soon, he was no longer worried about the issue. Claire seemed to have calmed down, too.  
"Wow . . . That was close," she muttered, "Thank you for not giving up. I'm not in heat anymore."  
Owen sighed with relief and stood up.  
"That's great. Are you feeling-"  
As he opened the door, he realized too late that Claire was getting ready to pounce. She reached forward and hooked her beak over the top of his pants, quite literally dragging him to the bed.  
"CLAIRE!"  
"Come on. It won't take long."  
"You lied to me!"  
"It was for your own good."  
Owen struggled to break free, but she was adamant. He pushed her away many times, and she would gravitate towards him like his resistance meant nothing at all.  
"Claire!"  
"Take off your pants."  
"No!"  
"I'll do it for you."  
"You don't have hands!"  
"I can try-"  
She tugged at his belt-loops, and Owen suddenly shouted very loudly.  
"What? What is it?" Claire asked in panic.  
"You _bit_ me!"  
"Did not!"  
He staggered away from the bed.  
"Oh, god. I'm injured."  
Claire's eyes went wide.  
"Oh, no . . ."  
Owen stumbled across the room, wincing in pain.  
"I'm going to need stitches!"  
Claire put her front foot over her mouth in shock.  
"Oh my god . . . Oh my god . . . I'm so sorry . . ."  
Owen sucked air through his teeth and placed one hand against the wall, leaning forward in a painful pose.  
"Can you get some rubbing alcohol?" he wheezed.  
Claire nodded rapidly and made a dash for the medicine cabinet. When she came back, Owen was gone. She flung the bottle to the ground angrily.  
"SON OF A-"  
With a furious roar, she charged down the stairs and pursued him as he ran across the front lawn.  
"OWEN, GET BACK HERE, YOU ROTTEN LIAR!"  
"You lied first, and I can't break my promise!" he shouted over his shoulder.  
They sprinted across the field, both screaming for very different reasons. It soon became apparent that Claire was bound to catch up with her prey. Luckily, Owen reached the forest at the edge of the field, and began to climb a tree, knowing that she would be unable to follow. She nearly caught his pant leg as he scooted up the trunk, but she was too late. He perched himself on a branch and caught his breath. Claire stood on her hind legs, leaning against the trunk for support. Owen felt his stomach twist as she glared up at him.  
"I hate you. I _hate_ you, you know that?"  
Owen's lip quivered.  
"You don't mean that. When you come to your senses-"  
"I'll _never_ come to my senses, Owen!" Claire snapped, "Don't you get it? I'm not human! I'm a big, fat stegoceratops who goes into heat and has no control over anything in her life! Why bother fighting it? There's no point in pretending like I'm anything more than livestock. I'm a mess! I used to be someone, but now I'm no better than a cow!"  
Owen gulped as she fell back from the trunk, sobbing heavily. He was pretty sure that this wasn't another trick, but even if that were the case, climbing down would be a very bad idea. It tore him up to see her so distraught, and he struggled to come up with a way to help her. He leaned over the branch he was sitting on and reached out for her with one hand.  
"Claire . . ."  
She sniffled and stood up on her hind legs unsteadily, pressing her beak against his palm.  
"Owen, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen."  
He stroked her snout.  
"I know. It's not your fault. I'm here for you."  
She closed her eyes.  
"I've made a fool of myself, haven't I?"  
Owen shook his head.  
"You're no worse than me when _I'm_ horny . . ."  
Claire laughed weakly.  
"You don't mean that."  
"I do."  
Claire sighed and sat down by the base of the tree. She rubbed her horn against the bark idly.  
"If I try to climb this, I'll probably hurt myself," she reasoned.  
"Yeah, don't do that."  
"I guess this means you'll be keeping your promise," she muttered.  
"I guess so."  
After a pause, Owen took a deep breath.  
"Claire, why are you _really_ doing this? Are you upset about something?"  
She looked down at her feet in shame.  
"I don't know . . . I guess it's just been hard, lately . . . I mean, it comes in waves . . ."  
She shook her head.  
"I think I'm just worried that I'm losing control. Two days ago, I grazed for two full hours and didn't notice."  
"Maybe you were just hungry."  
"Maybe," Claire sighed, "Even if that's true, I'm worried about my ability to maintain the parts of me that still have some semblance of humanity. I mean, what if this doesn't stop? What if it keeps getting worse and worse until I'm a brainless dinosaur?"  
Owen shook his head.  
"That will never happen. You're more human than most people I know, and little things like eating grass won't change that."  
Claire bit her beak nervously.  
"But what if it doesn't _stay_ as little things? What if it escalates until I lose sight of everything?"  
"I won't let that happen. You _know_ I won't. I'm here for you until the bitter end, and as long as I'm around, I'll make absolutely sure that nothing bad happens to you."  
Claire beamed up at him warmly.  
"I think I'm feeling better now. Don't come down for another few minutes, just in case."  
Owen nodded.  
"Alright. I can wait."  
"For how long?"  
He smiled.  
"For as long as it takes."


End file.
